His Greatest Discovery
by kazumigirl
Summary: What if Sherman wasn't abandoned? What if he had parents who were looking for him? And after seeing the news coverage of the night the Space Time Continuum ripped apart, they recognized him?
1. Chapter 1

**His Greatest Discovery**

**Author's Note: **Okay, I've never written anything like this. I'm not good with OCs. If you like it, and would like it to be continued, you have to let me know, other wise, I will realize I was never meant to write OCs. Mr. Peabody and Sherman do not belong to me, but I love them just the same. Enjoy!

It was an ordinary day in the Spring household. Mrs. Nancy Spring bustled around the modest three bedroom home in the New York suburbs, preparing her children for school, and husband for work. Mr. Spring, briefcase in hand, ran around gathering papers and collecting two bagels and a banana from the kitchen table. Three-year old Alice Spring played with her oatmeal, and took a quick peek at her mother before flinging a spoonful onto her brother, William.

"Alice!" William wiped it away. "Mom! Alice is making a mess!"

"Cope, Dear," his mother said, straightening her husband's tie. "Will you be home in time for Will's soccer game?"

"I already took the afternoon off," he replied, smiling. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

He gave his wife a quick peck on the lips, and then placed one on the tops of both children as he hurried out the door.

"Eat, William," his mother said. "You're going to miss your bus."

"Yeah, yeah," William said, stirring his oatmeal.

The house phone rang, and Mrs. Spring sighed as she dried her hands on a dish towel. She had just started the dishwater.

"Hello?" She placed the phone to her ear as she helped Alice out of her booster seat. "Oh, hi, Lisa!"

Lisa, William knew, was the nosey neighbor next door with a baby and a boy Alice's age. Both were trouble when they came over because his mother always made him 'play' with the babyish neighbor children. He hoped she wasn't calling to set up a play date of some kind.

"The news?" His mother frowned, tugging Alice's nightgown over her head. "No, I haven't seen anything. New York City? No, what happened there?"

The Springs lived just outside of New York City, barely two hours away. William perked up, now interested in the conversation.

Still talking, his mother walked away and turned the television on.

"Why am I going to be shocked-OH MY GOD!"

William sprung up from his chair. The Springs were a religious family, and rarely did he hear his parents curse. Sometimes his father did, when he stubbed his toe or spilled coffee on his tie, but never his mother. Just as he started out of the kitchen, he heard his mother sobbing into the phone. This time, she was talking to his father.

"Joe! Oh my God, Joe! It's Sherman! They found Sherman!"

William paused. Somebody found Sherman?

"Yes, come home! Hurry!"

"Mom?" William walked into the living room. "Who found Sherman?"

His mother didn't answer him. Instead, she stared at the television screen intently, biting her thumbnail. Alice toddled into the room, only in her pink unicorn-printed panties, and whined that she wanted to get dressed.

"Hey!" She stopped in mid-whine to point to the TV. "It's Will!"

William looked too. On the television screen, was a boy who looked just like him, only with glasses. His hair was the same rusty red, spiked and gelled up (William wanted to use hair gel, but his mother told him it would be a waste on such thick hair).

"That's Sherman?" He asked quietly, though he knew already.

"They found him…" his mother whispered.

* * *

William had heard the story many times before. His mother had been at a gas station, on her way to visit Grandy and Gramps in Connecticut. The twins were only infants at the time, barely six months old. Sherman and William, the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed twins that nobody could tell apart except for their own parents. Even both sets of grandparents continued to mix them up, unless they were wearing opposite colors, and even then they had a hard time.

"Hi, Grandy," Nancy said into the phone, stepping out of the car to pump gas. In her arms, she held William, who had a wet diaper. "We're on our way. We're just running late because of traffic."

"I'll go change Thing Number Two," Joe said affectionately, taking the baby from his wife. He waved to Sherman through the window.

"The boys spilled juice all over the matching sailor suits," Nancy said into the phone. "We'll just change them when we get there. As a joke, I pinned their names to their blankets!"

She laughed and said, "Like I said, it's just a joke. You'll get the hang of telling which is which in no time."

As she spoke, a nervous looking man wandered around the gas station, scratching his head through his baseball cap.

"Joe just took William inside to change his diaper," Nancy said. "I'm filling up the car and then we'll be on our way."

The man noticed Nancy busying herself with the gas pump in one hand, and the phone in the other. Casually moving past the car, he noticed the driver side door not closed all the way, and the keys in the ignition. Inching closer, he tested the door handle.

Meanwhile, in the backseat, strapped snuggly in his carseat, Sherman amused himself by flapping his blanket around. His glasses, which were oversized without the straps that came with them (but Sherman would keep pulling at and snapping them in two) kept sliding down to his nose.

"Okay, Grand," Nancy said. "See you in a bit."

She placed the nozzle back in its groove, and said, "Okay, Sherman! Let's hit the road, Puddle Duck!"

She turned just in time to see the car zoom away, her baby in the backseat.

"Sherman!" She cried, running after it. "Somebody help! My baby's in that car!"

Just as people started to look, Joe exited the gas station. "Nancy? Nancy?!"

"Sherman!" She ran until she could no longer see the car, which had turned the corner.

* * *

They found the car. Wrecked. The driver was found dead a few blocks over. It was apparent that he'd thrown the baby from the car, as the seat was still intact, but with no baby inside. Police and volunteers looked, but found no sign of a child.

What they didn't know is that between the suburbs and the city, where the baby had not been tossed, but placed on the side of the highway going into the city, a homeless man had collected the baby in a box and kept him in the alley he slept in with him overnight. As kind a gesture as it was, the poor old man had long been out of his mind, and by morning, had forgotten all about what was inside of the box beside him and wandered away.

Baby Sherman howled all day, but the only ones who crossed anywhere around the alley were other homeless dwellers-most not in a healthy state of mind, and most ignored the cries of the baby. It was only a nightfall, when a certain genius dog had happened to be in the area, getting lost on his way to a restaurant he'd never been to before. Once he was past the alley, he would know his way, but it was tired, faint cries that made him stop…

* * *

"I can't believe we're on the news, Mr. Peabody!" Sherman said as his father served him half a grape fruit to go with his slice of lean ham and cup of yogurt and granola.

"I've been on the news plenty of times, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said. "And so have you. You just don't remember."

"You mean from when you adopted me?" Sherman asked, struggling with his grapefruit. Some of the juice splattered onto his glasses.

"Your face wasn't shown," the dog said. "I wouldn't allow it. It was too…" he didn't want to say _scary_, but there was no better word for not wanting his precious baby's face for all of the world to see. "It was just too unusual a situation."

"You said you found me in a box," Sherman said, watching as his father poured him a glass of milk.

"Just like a present," Mr. Peabody agreed. "You were, and have always been, my favorite discovery."

Sherman grinned, pleased with the sentiment both in the words and his father's tone. He hungrily tore into his breakfast (having missed dinner last night because of the space time continuum fiasco), and listened to the news that played on the Tablet like device that sat propped up at the kitchen bar where Sherman and Mr. Peabody ate breakfast every morning.

"Quickly, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said. "Or you'll be late."

"Okay, Mr. Peabody," Sherman replied, sliding off of the stool. "Just let me go the bathroom first."

"Right, just hurry please," his father said, collecting the dishes. He paused and smiled to himself. "No _stalling_, Sherman."

Sherman laughed and said, "No stalling…I don't get it."

* * *

Mr. Peabody felt good as he polished the scrapes and dents in the WABAC. On the way to taking Sherman to school, he had finally been able to him the three simple words he'd always felt, but had never had an easy time saying. It had not been hard at all, and he couldn't wait to say it again.

The musical doorbell sounded, and Mr. Peabody left the WABAC to find out who was downstairs wanting to get up. He hoped it was not the press. As social as he was, the events of the past few days had him longing for solitude.

"Yes?" He said into the intercom.

"Hello," a male voice said, sounding nervous. "Mr. Peabody, my name's Joseph Spring…I'm here with my wife, and our children."

"Um…" Mr. Peabody wondered if he knew a Joseph Spring. It took him only a fraction of a second to mentally confirm that he did not. "Yes, Mr. Spring? How might I be of assistance to you?"  
There was a slight pause, some hushed words, and then Mr. Spring said, "We need to talk to you about Sherman."  
The hair bristled all over Mr. Peabody's body.

"Sherman?" He repeated.

"It'll just be easier if we can show you," Mr. Spring said. "Please. You can even meet us down here, if you don't want us in your home."

The man did not sound threatening, and there was even a hint of tired sadness in his voice. Mr. Peabody wondered whether he should let a family of strangers up, and finally buzzed for them. When they arrived in the elevator, two adults- both looking tired and worried, a bouncing toddler, and…Sherman stepped out. Sherman?!

Mr. Peabody had to do a double-take, and instantly knew this was not Sherman. He looked just like Sherman, but his hair was smooth and flat, he did not have glasses, and his scent was different. Completely different.

"I know," Mr. Spring said, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "We didn't want to startle you."  
"Who-" Mr. Peabody felt himself stuttering. "Who is this?"

"Our son," Mr. Spring said. "William."

"He's Sherman's brother," Mrs. Spring said, her voice hoarse with tears. "They're twins."

* * *

Mr. Peabody fixed tea and they all sat around the parlor sofa, not touching a single cup. All four of them had red hair, though Mrs. Spring's hair was closer to blonde, and she and her daughter had green eyes. Mr. Spring and William, however, was like looking at present Sherman sitting next to future Sherman.

Shakily, interrupting each other, the couple told the dog their story of losing their baby. About how they'd assumed he was dead. About how family and friends had urged them to go on with their lives and stop printing missing child ads.

"When we saw the footage from last night," Mrs. Spring said, biting her bottom lip. "It was like looking at William, and I knew it was Sherman before his name was even mentioned."

For one in his life, Mr. Peabody had no idea what to say. Over the years, he'd painted a picture of Sherman's parents in his mind, and they were not like this soft-spoken couple with tears in their eyes for their baby. In his mind, they were junkies or scared teenagers, tossing their infant out like yesterday's garbage. If it weren't for the twin brother seated on his father's lap, he may not believe any of it.

"I kept Sherman's picture out of the media during the adoption," he admitted.

"And we were to caught up in looking for him to even pay attention to the news coverage," Mrs. Spring said, sighing.

"This is certainly a mess," Mr. Peabody said.

"Where is Sherman?" Mr. Spring asked.

"At school," the dog replied. "I'll be leaving at two-thirty to pick him up."

The phone suddenly rang, and Mr. Peabody was grateful for the distraction.

"Excuse me," he said, hopping up, and running over to his cell phone. "Hello? Peabody here."

"Hello, Mr. Peabody?" A female voice said. "This is Ms. Bell at CrossRoads Elementary."

"Hello, Ms. Bell," the dog replied. "Is everything alright? Is Sherman alright?"

"He's fine," Ms. Bell said. "It's just, he was sent to the school nurse after falling asleep in class, and the nurse and his teachers agree that it might be best if he just leaves early for the day to catch up on his sleep."

Mr. Peabody couldn't help but feel bad that he and Sherman had not returned home from their adventure until the wee hours of the morning and he had shipped him off to school as usual.

"I'll be there," he said.

The Spring family was staring at him.

"Um, Sherman's coming home early," he explained. "He's exhausted, and is not performing well."

Mr. Spring stood up. "Mr. Peabody," he said. "You have to know why we're here."

"We want to see Sherman," Mrs. Spring said.

* * *

"I'm sorry I fell asleep in class, Mr. Peabody," Sherman said as they got off the scooter. "I was trying really hard to stay awake, but we were watching a film about under the ocean."

He yawned. "Everything was just so dark and blue and swimming…" he yawned again.

"Sherman." Mr. Peabody placed his paws on the boy's shoulders. "Before we go inside, I need to explain something to you-"

"Sherman!"

It was too late. The Springs, who had not gone home as asked, had been waiting downstairs. They rushed over, minus William who dragged his feet.

Sherman jumped a little and asked, "Who are they, Mr. Peabody?"

He became even more uneasy when the woman started to cry, taking his face in her hands.

"Oh, my God!" She gasped. "You're okay!"

"Please," Mr. Peabody said sternly. "Give him space. He doesn't know you."

"My baby!" The woman pulled him against her. "Sherman!"

"Mr. Peabody!" Sherman removed himself and moved behind his father. "Who are these people?"

Mr. Peabody held his son's hand. "They're your parents, Sherman."

To Be Continued…if it's any good. Let me know in your reviews!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was nearly two in the afternoon. On one side of the coffee table sat the Spring family. On the other, the Peabody family. Sherman and William were sitting directly across from each other, staring into hazel eyes that matched their own. William had seen pictures of them together as infants, but looking at Sherman now, it was like staring into a mirror.

He was the first to break eye-contact, and stared at an unusual painting on the wall. He hated Sherman, and always had. For as long as he could remember, he was not allowed to be anywhere by himself, or go to a sleepover, or summer camp. On his birthday, there were presents and cake, but a lingering sadness, because it was Sherman's birthday too.

It used to make him feel bad, hating his brother. After all, he was the one his parents still had. He was the one who was not dead in a ditch somewhere. Poor Sherman, everyone always said, thrown from a car and left for dead.

Only, Sherman was not dead. Sherman was perfectly fine, and had been for the past seven years. In fact, he was more than fine. William had noted how big and elaborate the penthouse was, not to mention the evening news had revealed it contained a time machine.

For seven birthdays, William had been given fake smiles because all anybody thought about was poor little Sherman, and all along, poor little Sherman was having the time of his life in some expensive house with a time machine.

"I'm sorry!" Mrs. Spring gasped out. "I just can't stop staring! You've gotten so big!"

William wanted to say, 'Mom, he looks just like me. You shouldn't be surprised at all', but he did not. He kept his mouth shut, and played with a loose thread on his shorts.

"So, Sherman," Mr. Spring said, rubbing his hands together. "Do you like sports?"

"I play soccer," Sherman said. "And Mr. Peabody said when I get older I can go out for track and field. Right now, I don't have the correlation."

"Coordination," Mr. Peabody corrected automatically. He stood up and clapped his paws together. "This has been a very exhausting day. I think we should let Sherman get some rest. I wouldn't want him to have to miss school two days in a row."

The Springs stood up too, and Mrs. Spring reached for Sherman, who only drew back, and William took her hand instead.

"Can you believe it?" Mr. Spring chuckled, sounding a little sad. "You have a brother and sister."

"You have a mommy and daddy!" Alice said, hugging onto her father.

"I…" Sherman became shy. "I have a dad."

"That's a dog," Alice blurted out. "I mean a daddy-daddy."

Sherman looked pleadingly at Mr. Peabody, who received the silent message and said politely, but firmly, "I bid you good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Spring."

"Call us Joe and Nancy," Mr. Spring said, looking at Sherman. He swallowed hard and told his other son, "I hope to see you again, Champ."

William bristled. That was the pet name his father called _him_.

"I'm going to be late for soccer," he pointed out. "Come on, Mom. Come on, Dad."

* * *

"We have to get him back!" Nancy said, once they were in the car. "Joe! That's our son we're leaving there!"

Mr. Spring fastened his seatbelt, sighing.

"That may be a dog in there, but he's won the world over," he told his wife. "I can't just _grab_ Sherman and high-tail it."

When his wife broke down in tears, he held her hand and said, "We'll get a lawyer. We'll get Sherman back. He was never an orphan. It was a mistake, and the legal system will work in our favor, Honey."

Alice kicked her feet in her car seat. "Sherman's going to come and live with us?"

"That's right, Pumpkin," Her father said, smiling at her in the rear-view mirror. "He's your brother, after all."

William stared out the window at the penthouse. He did not want Sherman to come home. He wanted him to stay on top of that building with that talking dog and leave his family alone.

When they arrived at the soccer game, his parents hardly paid any attention. The first game of the season, and they stood amongst the other parents, whispering and hugging. It didn't take a genius to know they were talking about Sherman, and William felt tears burning in his eyes. Just another thing for his so-called brother to ruin.

* * *

_"William, where have you been?!" Nancy shrieked when Mrs. Thomas drove him home._

_On a spur of the moment, the six-year old had decided to ride the school bus home with his friend. It was fun. He had never ridden a school bus. His mother or father always picked him up, terrified that kidnappers and carjackers were hiding around every corner, waiting to get him. When Jason had asked him to come over and play video games and eat pizza and spend the night, William knew his parents would never say yes. They would do as they always did-encourage William to invite his friends over to his house._

_William rode the bus home with Jason, and they had played basketball in the driveway, tested Jason's new fighting video game, ate chocolate chip cookies, and that's when Jason's mother had informed the boys that the police were at William's house._

_"Mom, I was just playing," William tried to explain, but his mother wrapped her arms around him, shaking and crying._

_"Don't ever do that again!" She choked out._

_And William didn't. He hadn't even needed punishment. Seeing his mother hysterical with disheveled hair and mascara running down her face, police officers on his lawn…it was then he realized that Sherman's disappearance really had shaken his parents up._

_As he laid his head on his pillow that night, he scowled at the ceiling._

_"I hate you, Sherman," he hissed into the darkness. "I hope you're never found."_

* * *

"Mr. Peabody?" Sherman asked as his father towel-dried his hair.

Sherman was old enough to take a shower by himself, but he had a bad habit of not washing all of the shampoo out.

"Yes, Sherman?" The dog asked.

"William really did look like me, didn't he?"

"Well, yes," Mr. Peabody said. "You're twins."

"You said you found me in a box," Sherman said. "So I guess somebody put you there."

Mr. Peabody stopped drying the boy's hair for a moment. He waited to see where Sherman was going with this.

"If you lost me, would you stop looking for me like they did?"

It made the dog's heart swell. He walked around to face Sherman, and tapped his chin to make him raise his head and look at him.

"I would search the universe to find you," he promised.

Sherman smiled a little, and shook his head, spraying his father with water droplets. They both laughed, and Mr. Peabody hung the towel on the bar next to the shower.

"Get your pajamas on and brush your teeth," he said. "You have to be beyond tired."

He left the bathroom to give Sherman time to dress, and met him in his room once the boy was in bed. For years they'd been in sync with their routine, and he was hardly a second late to tuck his son into bed.

Sherman yawned and drew designs in his comforter with his pointer finger.

"Mr. Peabody?" He asked, his eyes opening and closing.

"Yes, Sherman?" His father smoothed out his covers and fluffed his pillows.

"Remember when you said Ms. Grunion couldn't take me away as long as you were around?"

"And she didn't," Mr. Peabody said, though he knew what was coming next.

"Will the Springs take me away?"

"No, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said, though deep in his heart he knew it was very possible. "Not as long as I'm around."

Sherman yawned again. "I love you, Mr. Peabody."

"I love you too, Sherman." He kissed him. "Get some rest."

"Mmhmm." Sherman rolled over, and in a matter of seconds his breathing became slow and deep.

The dog stood in his doorway and murmured, "No matter where you are, you're always my son."

* * *

"I'm running late," Joe Spring said, grabbing a slice of toast from the kitchen counter. "See you all tonight!"

"Don't forget to call the lawyer!" Nancy reminded him, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"I will," her husband promised, and paused to sigh dreamily. "Just think, our family's going to be whole again."

William circled his spoon around in his Cocoa Puffs, listening. Alice listened too, and said, "Is Sherman going to share a bedroom with Will?"

William looked at his parents.

"Of course he will," Mr. Spring said. "That used to be Sherman's room too!"

William pushed his bowl away.

"Why does he have to come home? It seems like he's pretty happy living with Mr. Peabody to me."

His parents laughed, and it made him scowl. He had not said anything amusing!

"Honey, Mr. Peabody is a dog," his mother explained. "Boys don't need to have dogs for parents, and besides, Sherman's home is _here_. He wasn't an orphan like Mr. Peabody thought he was."

"Another bed won't fit in my room," William pointed out.

"We'll get bunk beds," his father said, shrugging. "I'm out!"

Mrs. Spring moved around the kitchen, humming and twirling, something William had never seen her do. She looked out the kitchen window and chuckled.

"I wonder if Sherman is thinking about us right now," she said out loud.

"I think so," Alice said. "I think he's thinking of having a twin. He's probably thinking, 'There's another me! Well, that's pretty crazy!' "

Her mother laughed affectionately and kissed her daughter's head. "It probably sounds crazy, but I think deep down your brother remembers us."

"Will," she said. "Don't be late for your bus, Son."

* * *

Their last time traveling adventure was 1910 to see Halley's Comet. Mr. Peabody had been saving the trip for Sherman's eighth birthday, but through a quiet, private legal discussion between the Springs, the state of New York, and Mr. Peabody, it had been decided.

Sherman was not an orphan, and because he was a minor with a family, he was to be returned to them immediately.

"Wow, Mr. Peabody!" Sherman said, hopping up and down behind the telescope. "This is pretty fantastic!"

"I couldn't wait until your birthday," his father confessed.

The two of them sat on the grass, looking up at the sky, and Sherman turned to his father.

"My birthday isn't for five months," he said.

Mr. Peabody didn't say anything to that. He just pulled Sherman against him, and explained trivia about the stars and comets and how people throughout history had interpreted them. The two of them stayed like that until it became to chilly, and then made their way back to the time machine.

When Sherman was tucked into bed that night, Mr. Peabody removed the boy's glasses and said, "I, ehm, I'm keeping you home from school tomorrow."

Sherman sat up. "What? Why, Mr. Peabody?"

"We'll talk about it in the morning," his father promised. "Right now, just get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow."

* * *

William watched with disgust as the bunk beds were assembled and his chest of drawers were pushed against the wall, so close to the closet that the door would not slide open all the way.

For days, the Springs had been preparing for the arrival of their lost son, and William was not happy about it. His parents had told him that room had to be made for his brother's things, and they bought personalized knick knacks like mugs and a baseball cap that read 'Sherman' on them.

"You know what, Honey?" Mrs. Spring said, as her husband slid William's desk over to the far wall. "Let's move the dresser and the desk around."

"I want my desk where it is,' William growled, but his parents ignored him.

He sat on the top bunk of the bunk beds and watched as his entire room was rearranged to fit the needs of a stranger.

"I hope Sherman likes to play Hide and Seek," Alice said, climbing onto the bottom bunk. "Hey, Will! Now two of us can hide and one of us can seek!"

Mr. Spring laughed. "You three are going to have a blast!"

William only rolled his eyes.

* * *

"What do you mean I have to go live with them?!" Sherman exploded, jumping up from his place on the sofa.

"Sherman, sit," his father commanded.

"NO!" Sherman clawed his hands through his hair. "You said you'd never let anybody take me away as long as you were around! That's what you said!"

Mr. Peabody's heart was breaking, but he had to be firm, for Sherman's sake. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to pack his son up and move to Mexico.

"Sherman, we have to be _fair_," he told him. "These are your parents, and they love you."

"I thought _you_ were my parent and _you_ loved me!" Sherman said, starting to cry.

"I love you more than anything in this world," Mr. Peabody said, sitting Sherman back down on the couch and brushing tears and snot away from the boy's face with his paws. "And nothing will ever change that."

"But it is changing," Sherman said. "I'm going to live with a whole new family!" He gestured to an imaginary family on the other side of the couch.

Mr. Peabody sat beside him and pulled him against his side. "Nothing's permanent, and I will make sure that you are happy, no matter what."

"I'm happy when I'm with you," Sherman said, crying into his fur. "You're my dad."

* * *

A social worker drove Sherman to his new home two hours away in the suburbs. Sherman sat quietly in the backseat, playing with the dog whistle he'd been given his first day of school. His eyes were raw and swollen from tears, but he did not want to cry in front of strangers.

The Springs were waiting for him on the lawn, and Sherman wanted nothing but to stay in the car until they went back inside and forgot all about him.

"We're here," Mrs. Ramsey said, helping him gather his two suitcases.

It would take many trips back and forth to collect all of his belongings, so he packed just enough to survive a few days on before he would have to go back and get more.

"Sherman!" Mrs. Spring gave him a quick hug and kiss, which he did not return.

"We've been waiting all day," Mr. Spring added.

"Come see your room!" Alice said, tugging on his hand.

* * *

Sherman had never been so scared in his life, and he had been in some scary situations. At dinner, which was not like dinner at home where everything was made from scratch and prepared in a fabulous way. Dinner at the Springs was hotdogs and potato chips with Koolaide for the kids. Mr. Peabody forbid junk food of any kind except cake and ice cream, and that was strictly for special occasions like birthdays. Sherman had eaten a hotdog once at a baseball game (Mr. Peabody insisted it would make him a true 'Yankee') but for dinner?

"So, William," Mr. Spring asked. "Did you show Sherman around your room?"

"He saw it," William said, biting into a chip.

Sherman stared down at his plate. He and William hadn't spoken two words to each other. After dinner, the family watched something on television, and then each went about their business before bed. Nobody read to Sherman, or went over math, or played Chess with him.

Mr. and Mrs. Spring came into the bedroom to bid the boys goodnight, and each gave Sherman a long hug and a kiss.

"We're glad to have you home, Champ," Mr. Spring said.

Sherman stayed tense until their hands were off of him. In the dark, he chewed on his nails and stared up at the ceiling. He thought of his father at home, and wondered if he'd already forgotten about him. The thought brought tears to his eyes and they silently rolled down his cheeks and onto his pillow.

"Are you crying?" William asked.

"No," Sherman lied, sniffling.

"A dog can't be a parent, you know," William said. "They're pets. We used to have one."

Sherman didn't feel comfortable enough to argue with William. He simply tried to ignore him, but William sat up and continued, "He probably already forgot about you."

Sherman wiped at his eyes and said, "Leave me alone."

"Leave you alone?" William jumped off of the the top bunk and stared at his brother on the bottom bunk. "All I've been hearing about since you and your _dog_ messed up New York City was Sherman, Sherman, Sherman! Why don't you leave _me _alone?"

Sherman rolled over so William could not see his face.

"The grown-ups in this house," William said. "Those are your parents. Mr. Peabody is NOT your dad. He's a dumb old animal."

Those were fighting words to Sherman, and he leapt out of bed so fast, William stumbled backwards. Sherman shoved him into the closet door and said, "He is not dumb, and he is my dad, so there!" He shoved him again, and then stared at him.

William moved away from the closet and climbed back onto his bunk.

"You act just like a dog," he said, rolling over. "You're not any brother of mine."

Sherman crawled back into bed too and cried silently into his pillow. After several hours of just lying awake in the dark, he crept out of bed and picked up his cell phone that was resting on top of his backpack. Quietly, he made his way to the living room and sat down beside the couch. It didn't feel right to sit on it. Nothing in this house felt right to touch.

He called the only number that mattered, and in a matter of seconds, a sleepy, but familiar voice picked up the phone.

"Hello? Peabody…"

"Mr. Peabody?" Sherman whispered.

"Sherman!" His father was awake now.

"Did I wake you up?" Sherman asked, knowing good and well he did.

"No matter," his father said, and Sherman could almost see him waving any negative thoughts away with his hand. "I'm always eager to hear your voice."

"I don't know what to say," Sherman confessed, drawing his knees up and touching each of his bare toes.

"Tell me about your day," Mr. Peabody said, as if they were riding the elevator up to the penthouse.

Sherman told him about the dinner, and how strange the Spring family routine was, and Mr. Peabody told him about how quiet the house was, and how he'd burned the lemon chicken he'd planned for dinner.

"Mr. Peabody," Sherman said. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Mr. Peabody told him. "But Sherman, you have to give the Springs a chance. They're your family. They love you."

Sherman frowned, thinking about William, who most definitely did not love him. He promised his father to keep trying, and asked, "Can I still call you?"

"Anytime, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said. "Whether it be in the middle of the day, or the middle of the night."

After he hung up, he began to cry, and was startled when a lamp in the living room clicked on.

"Sherman?" It was Mr. and Mrs. Spring.

Sherman wiped at his eyes and stood up, unsure of what to say. He hid his cell phone behind his back, just in case they decided to take it away.

"Honey, why on Earth are you crying?" Mrs. Spring asked. "Alone in the dark?"

Sherman said nothing. He hoped they did not wish to hug him again. Mr. Spring sat on the couch and motioned for the boy to sit beside him. Sherman did not sit.

"Sit down, Son," Mr. Spring coaxed.

Sherman sat.

"We know this is scary," he said. "You haven't seen us since you were a little baby."

He rubbed Sherman's back, and Sherman wriggled away from his touch. Mrs. Spring sat down on his other side and said, "We're very grateful to Mr. Peabody for taking care of you when we couldn't, and we know it's hard to say goodbye to a friend."

Sherman wiped at his eyes again as he lost his battle to tears.

"Mr. Peabody isn't my friend," he said. "He's my Dad."

"I'm your Dad," Mr. Spring said gently, touching his hand. "You don't know me yet, and it will take time to call me 'Dad', I know, but I'm not some ogre, Sherman. I love you."

He rumpled the boy's hair. "I've always loved you."

"You know what?" Mrs. Spring stood up. "Why don't I make us some hot chocolate? Oh, won't that be so fun to drink so late at night?"

"That sounds fantastic!" Mr. Spring agreed, picking Sherman up with just one arm.

It felt strange to Sherman, to be held by another human being. The last time another person held him was before he could remember, and he had gotten too big for Mr. Peabody to hold by his fourth birthday. The three of them made their way into the kitchen, and Mr. Spring sat down in one of the kitchen table chairs and set Sherman on top of the table. Sherman looked down at his 'seat' and then at Mr. Spring who mouthed a gasp, and Sherman couldn't help but smile.

"There's that smile!" Mr. Spring growled, tickling him.

Sherman laughed at being tickled, and then immediately felt guilty laughing when he should be feeling miserable.

Mrs. Spring started hot milk on the stove for Cocoa, and then sat down in the chair next to her husband.

"Mr. Peabody understands," she said, stroking his cheek. "You're not doing him wrong by enjoying yourself, Baby."

Sherman's face fell, and Mr. Spring tickled him again. As they all drank their hot chocolate, Sherman thought about how he had never had hot chocolate, or any kind of chocolate. It was poisonous to Mr. Peabody, so it just wasn't kept in the house.

Of course, they had hot tea, a variety of tea, and Sherman suddenly missed drinking hot tea with honey, curled up on the couch under a quilt as Mr. Peabody read to him. Now here he was, sitting on top of the table like a wild hooligan, drinking something that was poisonous to his father.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," he said in a small voice, putting his mug down. "Thank you for the hot chocolate."

"Goodnight, Son," Mr. Spring said.

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

William couldn't help but sneak a peek at Sherman during lunch. His estranged twin brother had been home for two weeks now, and he felt no more like a brother now then he had when he first arrived. He was eating by himself, as he normally did, and William had not offered to let him sit with him and his friends. He was already forced to share his home, his room, and his parents. Why should he be forced to share his social life?

"Maybe you should invite him to sit with us," Martin said, also looking.

"He probably thinks he's too good for us," James scoffed. "We're not time travelers with a talking dog for a dad."

"That's not his dad," William said, sounding annoyed. "Even though he can't seem to figure that out."

Martin sipped his milk. "Give him a break, Will. I mean, how would you feel if you were moved away from your home and put somewhere else?"

William knew Martin was right, but the whole situation made him so angry he felt he had to find somebody to blame, and Sherman seemed to be the easiest one to do so. Deep down, though, he wondered how scary this must all be for his brother, but he pushed those thoughts down even deeper.

"All he does at home is sit around like some scared little baby and hardly talks," he told his friends. "But he calls Mr. Peabody all the time. I've actually heard him beg to come and get him."

James bit into a fry. "It'll probably just take time. When I went to summer camp, I was homesick the whole first week, but the second week, I didn't even want to go home!"

"But it's already been two weeks," William pointed out. "And Sherman just sits in my room and acts miserable."

Sherman, they noticed, stood up and threw his trash away, leaving the cafeteria and heading for the library, as he did every day. William knew this because once he and his two friends had followed him to see where he went off to after he ate.

It had made William kind of sad, to peer through the windows of the library door, and see Sherman sitting at one of the little tables all by himself reading a book. Most of them were history books, but a few were science or fiction.

* * *

After school, William and Sherman rode the same bus home, but sat in different seats. William sat in the front, and Sherman in the back. The bus driver had been confused at first, but she didn't question their strange seating arrangements.

"Hey." William attempted as they walked the two-house distance from the bus stop. "How was your day?"

"Oh, um, okay," Sherman said, shrugging his back higher onto his back.

When they reached the house, William swallowed his anger and asked, "Do you want to kick the soccer ball around?"

"Um…" Sherman hesitated, and William felt his anger coming back, but to his surprise, his twin brother smiled and said, "Okay!"

It turned out to be fun, playing with Sherman. Secretly, William had always wondered what life would have been like having his twin around-somebody to play ball with and read comic books under the covers with a flashlight. Somebody to know what he was thinking, but did not want to say. He wondered what Sherman was thinking almost every day, but couldn't even take a guess.

"You're good," Sherman said, pushing his glasses into place.

"You're not so bad," William replied, grinning.

_This is what it's supposed to be like_, he thought as they passed the ball around the backyard with their feet. _This is why Mom and Dad missed him so much._

When Mr. Spring returned home from work, he joined them in their little game, and William found himself happy for the first time in days.

"Dad, you play Goalie!" He ordered.

* * *

Sherman found himself slowing down as he watched Mr. Spring and William chase the soccer ball around the yard. For hours now, he'd been enjoying himself, and not once that thought of his longing to be back home. The thought made him feel terrible, and he suddenly wished Mr. Peabody were there to comfort him.

Mr. Peabody.

Sherman felt his heart sink, and William kicked the ball into his shin, making him jump.

"Sorry, Sherman," William said.

"You okay, Son?" Mr. Spring asked.

_I'm not your son,_ Sherman thought.

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm done playing."

William gave him a funny look.

"Are you hurt?" He asked.

"No." Sherman shook his head. "I'm just done playing."

William looked like he might say something, something mean possibly, but Mr. Spring merely shrugged and said, "It is getting sort of late."

The three of them went back inside where Mrs. Spring and Alice were painting their toenails at the coffee table.

"Phew!" Mrs. Spring said. "You three smell like a pack of wet dogs!"

Alice laughed and repeated, "Wet dogs."

Sherman felt a twinge of anger at the remark, but reminded himself that Mrs. Spring's comment was innocent. It was harmless. In fact, Mr. Peabody had told Sherman plenty of times that he smelled like a wet dog.

"What's for dinner, Hon?" Mr. Spring asked his wife, leaning down to kiss Alice on the cheek.

"I was thinking we should go out," Mrs. Spring said. "We haven't really had a proper chance to celebrate Sherman's homecoming yet."

Sherman looked between the two adults.

"I thought this was temporary," he said. That's what Mr. Peabody had told him. Sherman would never forget those words.

_It's only temporary._

For a moment, Mr. and Mrs. Spring said nothing, and Sherman felt his heart start to race. Why were they being so quiet?

"We meant…just knowing you're alright," Mr. Spring said softly, and a little sadly.

The children were instructed to shower and dress, and as Sherman showered, he wondered if Mr. Peabody had been telling the truth. Was it really temporary? How long would he have to stay with these people?

* * *

Dinner out was at a chain restaurant. Colorful décor on the walls like mounted fish and street signs. The servers wore baseball caps and buttons on their shirts with funny sayings. It was definitely not the kind of restaurant Sherman would have gone to with Mr. Peabody unless it was his birthday and he begged to go.

"Ooh, chili cheese burger," Mr. Spring said, looking over his menu. "Yum!"

"Mommy, do I have to order off the kids' menu?" Alice asked.

"Not if you don't want to," Mrs. Spring replied. "Sherman, you may order anything you like."

"Dessert included." Her husband winked. "Hot fudge sundae. Delicious!"

The waitress came by and introduced herself as Stacy. She fawned over Alice's pink dress and hair bow, and then turned to Sherman and William, who had been squished together on one bench.

"Oh, twins!" She cooed. "How adorable!"

"Our pride and joy," Mr. Spring said.

_I'm not your pride and joy_, Sherman thought, and suddenly wasn't hungry.

Suddenly, he hated this family. How dare they take him away from his other father! The one who'd not only taken him in when he could have just dumped him off at a police station or even ignored him in that cardboard box, but had fought tooth and nail to keep him.

Didn't the Springs think about that? Didn't they wonder how they were breaking up one family just to reconcile one they'd never really had?

"Sherman?" Mrs. Spring snapped him out of his thoughts. "Do you know what you want to drink?"

"Can we get soda?" Alice asked.

"Just this once," Mrs. Spring said, and smiled at Sherman. "It's a special occasion."

"Sherman?" Mr. Spring turned to him. "What do you say? Want a rootbeer?"

"No." Sherman said. "Soda is bad for your teeth. And your kidneys."

"Aw, come on!" Mr. Spring laughed. "It won't kill you to drink it just this once."

"Maybe a lemonade instead," his wife suggested.

"That has corn syrup," Sherman pointed out.

"Well, what do you want to drink?" William asked him, and Sherman knew that William knew something was up.

"I don't want any of this," Sherman said. "I'm not hungry."

The Spring parents seemed very concerned.

"Nothing looks good?" Mrs. Spring asked. "Chicken? Pizza? Anything?"

"Loaded potato skins," Mr. Spring added. "Boy, I'll bet those are good."

"It's junk food!" Sherman spat. "I'm not allowed to have junk food!"

His outburst started the Springs, and he immediately felt ashamed. Had Mr. Peabody been there he would have promptly muttered an 'excuse me' and taken Sherman aside for a brief lesson in manners. He would have made Sherman apologize right in front of everybody and make him mean it.

Sherman did not say he was sorry. He slid out of the booth and hurried away before William could say something nasty, which he knew was coming. He'd made a mess of everything, and now he was acting like a brat.

Finding solace in the men's room, he stared at himself in the mirror and wondered if he looked as mean as he felt.

"There you are."

In his reflection, he saw William behind him.

"Leave me alone," Sherman said.

"Why can't you get it through your head that Mom and Dad are your parents?" William asked. He stood next to Sherman.

"Look at us!" He ordered. "We're twins! We're brothers! You're not a dog, Sherman!"

Sherman pushed past him and out of the men's room, dodging servers carrying food, and out of the restaurant. He didn't stop, but kept running. It seemed like forever, and his legs ached and he was out of breath, but he could not stop. He wanted to be as far from the Springs as possible.

When he finally did stop, only because he tripped over a metal coil sticking out of the sidewalk and landed on his face, he found his glasses broken in two in his hand. After that, thunder sounded and it started to rain.

"Mr. Peabody…" Sherman whimpered, standing up and limping on a scraped knee towards an alley where a half canopy top covered one side.

He sat in between two trash cans and started to cry.

* * *

Mr. Peabody sat on his sofa, glass of expensive wine in front of him, untouched. In his lap he held one of the many photo albums that contained snapshots of Sherman's life. The penthouse was filled with photographs of Sherman-he was practically immortalized on the wall close to the dog's bedroom, but the photo albums held some of the more intimate moments that guests needn't not see.

One of Peabody's favorites was Sherman's third birthday, the year of the dinosaurs. Sherman had been obsessed with dinosaurs as a toddler, and for his third birthday party, the two traveled to the time when the giant reptiles walked the Earth. In the picture, Mr. Peabody was holding Sherman, who was feeding an Apatosaurus some leaves.

For two long weeks, he had been without Sherman, and the penthouse was unbearably lonely. No lunches to pack. No goodnight hugs. No games of tickling on the couch. No fencing lessons. No bike rides or picnics in Central Park.

He was almost startled by the sound of his phone, and when he answered it, it was a frantic Mrs. Spring.

Sherman was missing.

To Be Continued...

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for the feedback! I truly appreciate it, and it's feedback that motivates me to keep going. I love some of the ideas I've been given in the reviews :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When Sherman was two, he had wandered away from Mr. Peabody during a visit to Central Park in the late 1800s. It hadn't taken the dog long to find his boy, but the half hour between the toddler's disappearance might as well have been a lifetime.  
Mr. Peabody remembered picking up Sherman's scent, and found him by a tree playing with sticks and rocks. Up until that moment when he had scooped the toddler into his arms and held him close, he'd secretly wondered if his affection for Sherman was merely a subconscious method of attempting to be less like a dog, and more like a person. That moment, however, when he embraced that cooing, giggling little boy with glasses, he knew that he honestly without a doubt, loved Sherman. It was the one thing he could not explain. He could give reason for everything, back it up with science, but the love he felt for his adopted son just _was._

* * *

Now he felt that dread over again as a hysterical Nancy Spring spoke to him on the phone.

"He just ran off!" She sobbed. "We've been driving all over the area, but we can't find him anywhere."

"Keep searching," Mr. Peabody instructed. "Keep someone at your house just in case he's made his way back."

Mrs. Spring sniffled. "I'm losing my baby boy twice."

Mr. Peabody didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he bid his goodbyes and hung up. If anyone could find Sherman, it was him. He tried Sherman's cell phone, and then traced it-only to have it trace back to the Spring residence. He wasted no time hopping on his scooter and driving towards the end of the city.

* * *

William felt cheated. As he sat on the sofa, rain tapping softly against the window, he thought about how this was the first time he'd been allowed to stay at home alone, and it was only so somebody would be there just in case Sherman decided to show up. Sherman, the anti-brother who made his life so miserable in the first place.  
Alice was with him, and she sniffled from her place at the table eating a bowl of cereal.

"I hope Sherman's alright," she said.

"Who cares about him?" William scoffed. "He doesn't even like us."

Alice's face fell and she began to cry. William immediately felt guilty, and went to comfort her. He gave her a hug and kissed her head, the way their parents always comforted him.

"I didn't mean that Alice," he said. "I'm sure Sherman likes you at least."

Alice shook her head. "No he doesn't. He's scared here. He doesn't like any of us because we're strangers."

William sat in the chair next to her.

"No, we're not," he said, though he knew it was true. "We're his family. I'm his brother and your his sister, and Mom and Dad are his mom and dad too."

Alice stared at him through tearful eyes, shaking her head.

"What if we were sent to his house and Mr. Peabody told us to call him Dad?"

William shrugged.

"But he's not our dad."

"It doesn't matter," his sister told him, pushing her cereal away. "I just mean if that happened. We would keep saying 'You're not our dad' and that's how Sherman feels. Mr. Peabody had him even when he was a baby."

William knew Alice was babbling, but she was making a lot of sense. What if their roles had been reversed? What if he was suddenly sent to live with Sherman's father and expected to fall into place as his son?

"I hope Sherman's okay too," he said.

* * *

"Sherman?" Mr. Peabody called through the rain. "Here, Sherman! Sherman, where are you?"

He had gone to the restaurant Sherman had taken off from and judging by Sherman's age, size, physical stamina, and thought process during a blind rage, he calculated he could not have gone far. Maybe seven to eight blocks at the max. Knowing Sherman, he was not still running, but instead hiding.

"Sherman!" He called again, into the rain.

"We checked every covered patio just like you said," Nancy said, jogging up to him with her husband, who was holding an umbrella.

"I called William," her husband added. "He's not back at the house."

Mr. Peabody quickly visualized Sherman's small wet frame pounding through a rainstorm. More than likely, Sherman fell, and to his horror, he noticed glinting on the sidewalk a few feet away. Approaching it, he knelt down and saw it was a shard over very thin glass. Next to it, a piece of black Springs made their way over to him.

"What is it?" Mr. Spring asked.

"It's...nothing." Mr. Peabody flicked it from his paw-fingers. "New plan. Search stores that are open."

"Oh, yeah," Mrs. Spring said. "He could be wandering around one just to stay out of the rain."

After they jogged back down the sidewalk to get in their car, Mr. Peabody continued on foot and made his way to a dead end street that was near a small alleyway that separated two restaurant parking lots. A small canopy only covered one side of the alley, and it wasn't doing a very job keeping the rain off of the trashcans and cardboard boxes that were crammed against the brick wall.

It brought him back to the night he heard faint wailing, and like a ghost, he retraced his steps from seven years ago, walking off of the sidewalk and into the shadows of small, narrow passage. Only this time, he was not afraid of the faint wailing that he heard.

It was music to his ears, the soft crying. Before he knew it, Mr. Peabody was face to face with Sherman, who was sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up-one of them bleeding. Sherman didn't see him yet, for his head was in those knees, his little arms wrapped around his legs as he cried.  
Very quietly, Mr. Peabody sat down beside him, but said nothing. He simply listened to Sherman's sobbing, and finally scooted close enough to say in his soft, paternal way, "Sherman?"

Sherman nearly jumped, and when he stared into his father's face, he smiled and threw his arms around him, crying even harder. Mr. Peabody embraced him and kissed his wet face.

"You smell like a wet dog," he teased, though his tone was sincere.

"How did you find me?" Sherman asked, wiping his eyes.

"I returned to the restaurants and traced your steps," his father replied.

Sherman averted his gaze and muttered, "The Springs called you."

"You know better than to run away from your problems," Mr. Peabody said. "You have no idea how worried I was when I received that call."

Sherman let out a long, shuddering sigh.

"I just want to be with you," he said.

"Come on," Mr. Peabody told him. "Let's get out of the rain."

* * *

It was the hardest thing for Mr. Peabody to have to take him back to the Springs. William opened the door, and considered letting Sherman have it (verbally) but when he saw Sherman's filthy, wet state with no glasses and scraped knee, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Now, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said, pulling him aside. "I know it's hard, but you have to try."

His words were more convincing than his tone, and when Sherman started to cry, his father had no idea what to say. William crept back into the front hallway to listen, and couldn't believe that Sherman sounded just like he did, when he did not want to separate from his parents. Of course, it had been years since he'd cried about something like that, but thinking about what Alice had said just a few hours before, it seemed familiar.

"Sherman." He heard the dog sigh, but it wasn't an irritable sigh. More like a tired sigh.

William made his way back to the door, and both dog and son looked at him, and then each other. Before any of them could say anything, Mr. and Mr. Spring entered the house, and all but lost their minds when they saw Sherman.

"You're okay!" Mr. Spring exclaimed, falling to his knees and cupping his face in his large hands. "You scared us, Sherman!"

Mrs. Spring was crying. She pulled him against her, and Sherman pulled away. He wished he hadn't seen the hurt on her face, but he did.

"He needs to go home," William said, and everyone looked at him.

His parents started to speak, but William stomped his foot and said, "No! Listen to me! Sherman doesn't belong here!"

"William Isaac Spring!" Mrs. Spring scolded. "How could you say such a thing? Of course he belongs here! He's your brother!"

"Yeah, he's my brother, but he's not your son," William said, looking at Sherman. For the first time, the boys seemed to know what the other was thinking.

"It's sad that he got lost that day," he continued. "And it's sad that we missed out on having him here, but Sherman grew up somewhere else. He grew up with a different dad."

He looked at Mr. Peabody, and the dog held Sherman's hand.

"A dad who loves him," he said. "And we can't just change that just because we found him. You can't just trade your family."

"William…" Sherman said quietly.

His twin brother looked at him, and muttered, "I would have liked having a brother, but I like it more knowing that you're happy."

For several minutes, nobody said anything. The only sound was the rain and thunder outside, and even then, their silence was louder than anything.

"Well, um," Mr. Spring finally spoke. "Sherman, come on, Buddy. I'll help you pack your things."

"Joe, I-" Mr. Peabody started to protest, but when Sherman squeezed hi s paw, he said instead, "I'll assist you."

"Joe-" Mrs. Spring looked at her husband, her eyes full of despair.

"We got what we wanted," Mr. Spring said, smiling sadly at Sherman. "We found our son."

It was very awkward, Sherman packing his things with the help of his adopted father _and _the biological one. Neither of them said anything, and when Sherman' s things were properly stored away into his suitcases, Mr. Spring offered to drive them to New York.

Mr. Peabody politely declined and called for a taxi instead, using the excuse that he didn't want to put anybody at risk on the wet roads. Everyone really knew it was to reduce the tension. When the cab honked outside, Mr. Peabody tapped Sherman's arm lightly.

"Come along, Sherman," he said.

"Can I at least-" Mrs. Spring choked out. "Can I at least have one more hug?"

Sherman hugged her, and Mr. Spring, and Alice. William, he did not, and the brothers waved to each other instead.

* * *

Nothing felt better than stepping into Penthouse, and even though they were both damp and dirty and tired, the father and son collapsed onto the sofa, and dozed off together.

It was nearly eleven when Mr. Peabody awoke, and he slept-walk Sherman to his bed, letting him skip his bath, face washing, and teeth brushing. Sherman passed out again the second his head was on the pillow, and Mr. Peabody stayed with him for a few more minutes.

"I love you, Sherman," he said, and he would make sure to say it every day from then on.

* * *

William stirred his cereal around in his bowl, slumped down in his chair. Alice jabbered away as usual, but his parents moved about the house more slowly. Mr. Spring sighed as he picked up his briefcase, and his wife handed him a Poptart.

"Have a good day, guys," he said, smiling sadly. "Will, soccer practice today?"

"No." William put his spoon down.

After his father left for work, his mother told him not to stall and began collecting breakfast dishes. William watched as she went to the kitchen window above the sink and stared out into the rain that was just starting to mist.

"Mommy?" Alice looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"Hm?" Mrs. Spring turned around and walked back to wipe the table with a sponge. "Oh, of course, Honey."

William knew better, but didn't say anything. Sherman had been returned home, and in his two day absence, the house went from a lively celebration of return to a silent mourning of loss once more. All of Sherman's personalized things were put into a box and slid under the bunk beds. The bottom bunk was now a resting place for laundry that needed to be put away.

William's friends didn't say much about Sherman after he explained why his brother was no longer attending school with him. Of course, he had barely put a dent in their lives, so they simply shrugged and talked about soccer and video games, as if he had never existed.

At home, everyone was careful to avoid mentioning Sherman other than he left a sock or his toothbrush. Mrs. Spring wanted to call his home in New York, but decided against it and went to her room to cry instead.

Mr. Spring looked through the old photo albums-the ones that had been tucked away in the attic after the carjacking. The pictures from when the family still had twins. William and Alice sat beside their father on the couch wordlessly and looked with him. Pictures of identical babies covered in applesauce, naked in a tub together, and dressed in matching Cupid costumes made them all smile a little, but it also made them sad.

* * *

Sherman couldn't believe how easy it was to fall back into his old life. Mr. Peabody immediately reenrolled him in his former private school and soccer lessons. The two of them continued to travel in the WABAC, going to all sorts of fascinating times like feudal Japan and the Civil War.

It surprised him, one Saturday afternoon, when a mail carrier delivered a certified letter to the Penthouse. Sherman had never received mail before.

"Who sent you a letter, Sherman?" Mr. Peabody asked.

Sherman turned the envelope over in his hand and read the neater-than-his-own print.

_William Spring_

* * *

"I had it first!" Sherman growled, pulling it away. "And besides, it's mine. It's my room and you have to ask permission to use it."

William scowled and took it back. "You put it down! And you only want it back because I want to play with it now."

The two boys fought and tugged, until Mr. Peabody entered the room and began flicking the light switch to get their attention.

"What on Earth is going on in here?" He demanded. "Sherman? William?"

"William took my Apatosaurus!" Sherman whined.

"He was done with it!" William argued. "He put it down!"

Mr. Peabody sighed. "We're about to go visit real dinosaurs and you two are bickering about a model replica? Sherman, you have fifty-two of them. Let William play with the Apatosaurus."

"Fine," Sherman grumbled, handing it over. He quickly regained his spirits and asked, "So are we ready to go, Mr. Peabody?"

"We're just waiting for Alice to get her shoes on," the dog replied. "She' a bit _tied up _at the moment working the laces." He chuckled at his own joke.

William and Sherman both stared and simultaneously said, "I don't get it."

"I'm ready!" Alice said, skipping into the room with her shoe laces dangling.

"Here," Sherman said. "Let me help you. This is how my dad taught me."

He knelt down and explained in complicated, mathematical detail how to tie a shoelace. Mr. Peabody nodded proudly and asked, "Are we all ready to go?"

"Ready!" The three children said, and Sherman led them excitedly to the large space where the WABAC was kept.

* * *

Sherman would keep the letter forever. Even if he and William didn't always feel like brothers, and the Springs did not feel like his family, he would always know that there were people who loved him before he was discovered in a box in an alleyway, and they helped him to find his family, even if they were no longer in it.

_Dear Sherman,_

_How are you? My teacher told me I should write you a letter because people are better at communicating when they write their feelings. I hope you're happy with Mr. Peabody. I think I would be happier with my real family too. _

_Everyone is good here. Alice is about to start a preschool, and I'm about to finish soccer. I might start baseball or basketball, but Dad says I can't do both, and it's hard to pick._

_I know you don't want to live here, but maybe you could come and visit some time. You could be a weekend brother or something. _

_I guess I should say I was secretly excited to have you home, but I know this is not your home. Maybe I could even visit your house. I would love to time travel! Have you ever seen dinosaurs? Real live ones?_

_Mom and Dad are inviting you and Mr. Peabody over for dinner this weekend, just so you know. Mom's going to make lasagna and she makes really good lasagna. Dad might even make a chocolate chiffon cake! Does your dad cook? Hopefully not broccoli (yuck!)_

_We hope you are doing well, and I hope you'll still want to be my brother, even if we have different families._

_Your brother (and future soccer star),_

_ William _

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed it! I'm toying around with the idea of a sequel, but I don't have a lot of faith in my Mr. Peabody dialogue (how do all of these fic writers do it so well?) If you would like a sequel, and have ideas in mind for it, please let me know in the reviews!


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